


A Moment of Hush

by LEDbiantastic



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6617497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LEDbiantastic/pseuds/LEDbiantastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm starting the work of cross-posting my work from Fanfiction.net into AO3. Here's my original summary:</p>
<p>In the episode Hush, Willow and Tara get trapped in a laundry room by the Gentlemen. Joss never shows us what they do to occupy themselves while they're stuck in there. So I decided to show you what they do. Because clearly I know. Just read it, ok?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment of Hush

The two girls sat with their fingers intertwined as the seconds passed in silence. Of course they were silent, the whole town was silent, the two girls couldn’t have spoken even if they’d wanted to. They stared into each other’s eyes while a psychedelic swirl of feelings flashed through their minds. There was relief, there was confusion, there was a bit of an after-buzz from the magic, and for one of them there was pain from a throbbing sprained ankle.

_Wow, that was a rush._ An electric, ecstatic deluge of magic had poured from their interlocked hands all through Willow’s body in a surge of tingling power. _This girl might be one helluva badass wicca. Wait, wasn’t she at the Wicca group the other day? Oh yeah! She was the one who actually seemed like she knew about magic. Those girls were so mean to her! I can’t believe anyone would be mean to someone so cute—uh sweet. What was her name? It started with an R. Ra… no, wait, it started with a T. Talia? No. Tara! Right, her name’s Tara. That’s such a pretty name…_

As she blinked herself out of her thoughts, Willow became very aware of Tara’s hand holding her own. _Should I let go? If I let go, she’ll think I’m disgusted by her or that I don’t like her. But if I keep holding on it might be awkward. She probably wanted to let go but didn’t because I was still holding on. She probably feels embarrassed and awkward. Oh god, I’m making her feel awkward!_

From the moment she first reached out to Willow, Tara’s awareness had never left their hands. _I should let go. She’s going to think I’m weird or something. But if I just suddenly drop her hand, she’ll think I don’t like her. But if I keep holding on, she’ll wonder if I **like** her, and then maybe she won’t want to be near me ever again. So I should let go._ After a rubber-band-like amount of time, seeming to stretch out into years but which was really only a couple of seconds, Tara dropped Willow’s hand. Not because she wanted to drop it, but because she felt guilty for not wanting to let go. She instinctively tried to apologize, but when no sound came out she just gave up and dipped her head so she could hide behind the curtain of her hair.

Willow was trying really hard not to wonder why she felt so disappointed when the blond girl let go of her hand. Instead she was concentrating on the pain in her ankle, trying to keep it under control. But now that she was no longer distracted by moving a vending machine with her mind, her throbbing ankle became unbearable and she couldn’t help grimacing.

Tara saw Willow’s face and wanted to do something to make her feel better. Giving her a hug would be difficult and awkward sitting down, plus the two of them didn’t know each other at all. Putting an arm around her shoulder was also too intimate. Patting her back or shoulder would seem insincere. Tara scooted closer and gave Willow’s shoulder a quick squeeze. When Willow smiled gratefully at her, she felt like someone was wringing her stomach. The desire to take away Willow’s pain was not a good sign. She knew she should read the warning and turn back before going too far down a bad emotional road. But she acted like she didn’t see it and walked on by.

Tara remembered one of her favorite spells from when she lived at home. It was a spell to make pain duller. It didn’t actually take pain away, but it could make the pain almost unnoticeable if Tara put enough power into it. But how to ask Willow? Performing a spell on someone without their permission is basically a violation of their body or mind. Tara tried to mouth it: “Can I use magic to help your ankle?” However, being unused to speaking in any form other than mumbling from behind a curtain of hair made it rather difficult for her to get Willow to understand. The blank look Willow gave her proved that to be true.

So it would have to be pantomime. She pointed to herself, then to her ankle, and then made a lowering motion with her hands. _She can make her ankle go down? Okay…_ Willow smiled and pointed at Tara’s ankle and made the lowering motion. When Tara shook her head, Willow gave her a confused look. Sighing silently, she pointed to herself, pointed to Willow’s hurt ankle, and made the lowering motion combined with an exaggerated smile of contentment. _She can make my ankle go down and be happy? … Oh! She can make my ankle feel better!_ Willow nodded enthusiastically, and then tilted her head and held up her hands in a question that was obviously “How?” Tara concentrated, and with a small gesture a little firework exploded from her hand. _Magic._ Willow nodded again.

Holding her hands over Willow’s ankle, Tara closed her eyes in concentration and chanted the spell soundlessly. She could feel soothing waves of Magiks emanating from her hands towards the sprained ankle. In her mind, they were calm, forest-green colored waves that gently beat down the angry, red mass of pain. She could see the red stuff fighting against her waves, so she used more energy and will to power the green waves. She continued pushing the green against the red with all her might until her mind saw only a small red dot surrounded by a thick wall of green.

Tara was breathing hard when she opened her eyes and looked up at Willow. _Wow, she looks tired. How much energy did she just put into that spell? Why would she do that? What if the Gentlemen get in? She’d need her energy to defend herself. I would hate it if she used up all her energy helping me, only to get her heart cut out by the Gentlemen. Well, if they get in, they’re gonna have to go through me before they’re getting anywhere near her. Gosh, she’s such a sweet, selfless person. I hope she’s okay._ Willow looked at Tara with concern in her eyes. When Tara saw the look Willow was giving her, she quickly smiled and ducked behind her hair. She hoped Willow would realize that just because the pain was mostly gone, it didn’t mean the sprain was healed or that she couldn’t damage it even further if she tried to—for example—run.

Her hope was dashed when Willow immediately began to stand up. Tara waved her hands vigorously back and forth and shook her head. When that didn’t get the message across, she lunged forward from sitting down to kneeling and grabbed Willow’s arm to pull her back down. Willow looked at her strangely, but didn’t try to get up again. Tara pointed at Willow’s ankle and made the “Indian sunburn” twisting motion with her hands. _You can still hurt it._ Eyebrows raised, Willow nodded to show her understanding.

Willow looked at Tara and pointed at the door. _We need to find out if they’re still there._ Tara’s eyes widened and she shook her head. Willow smiled reassuringly at Tara and then started to stand up again. She didn’t want Tara to be scared, and she didn’t want to make Tara do something she didn’t want to do. But Tara grabbed her arm again and pulled her back down with finality. _Fine._ Tara stood up and cautiously crept up to the door. She listened and didn’t hear anything. But maybe those scary _things_ were waiting quietly so the girls would be tricked into thinking they were gone. Tara turned back to Willow and shrugged. They both thought for a minute. The door had a window, but it was behind that vending machine they had pushed there. Neither of the witches wanted to know badly enough to move that monolith again.

Willow looked at Tara and shrugged. Tara shrugged back and walked over to her to sit down. For a few minutes, Willow and Tara looked all around the room—everywhere but at each other, although they both tried to steal glances when they thought the other wouldn’t notice. Willow saw a girl who seemed very shy and vulnerable sitting with her legs tucked under her and to the side. She was wearing a long gray skirt that didn’t leave a lot of room for motion. _She’s lucky she got away from the Gentlemen. She probably couldn’t have run very far in that. It’s a nice skirt though._ Willow blushed a bit with that thought and looked away.

In a moment, Tara glanced her way. She saw a beautiful, powerful witch in dark jeans and a red, sheer shirt with a tank top underneath. It looked really good. She was sitting with one leg bent and the other stretched towards Tara and her back against a washing machine. _Wow, she’s so pretty and strong. She probably thinks I’m some stupid girl who made her sprain her ankle and get stuck in a laundry room. I hope I get a chance to make it up to her._ Tara looked back down at her lap.

Sitting there without being able to talk was starting to make Willow feel awkward. Tara didn’t feel any pressure; she preferred to be alone with her thoughts. Currently, she was contemplating the fact that whereas most of her crushes took weeks—at the least—to develop, this one had sprung up out of nowhere. But when Willow felt uncomfortable, she babbled, and not being able to babble was just making her discomfort worse. _I should think of something to do. A game of some kind. Let’s see, we don’t have any cards, we have nothing to use as a game board or game pieces. All we have are our hands._ A small smile spread across her face. _Our hands, we can play games with our hands!_ She tapped Tara on the knee to get her attention and then held out her hands with her palms facing up. Looking at Willow in confusion, Tara put her hands out with her palms facing up too. Willow shook her head. She grabbed Tara’s hands and flipped them over so they were hovering a little higher and facing down. Then she put her hands under Tara’s facing up, so their palms were touching.

Each of the girls felt a little jolt, similar—but different—to the rush of power they had felt when they moved the vending machine. It was a much smaller version of that, like a shock from static electricity. Willow and Tara both managed not to show any outward sign of the shock, and so each thought she was the only one who felt it. All Tara could think about was not thinking about Willow’s hands touching hers. She had no idea what Willow intended—she knew it was probably nothing, but her brain was incapable of processing that knowledge. Her breathing grew shallower. All this in the space of mere seconds. Tara wasn’t paying much attention to their hands anymore; she was just trying to hold her reaction inside so as not to show any outward indication of her feelings. Smack! Before she had a chance to react, she felt Willow’s hands move and slap the backs of hers. Tara yanked her hands back and gave Willow a wounded look. _What was that for?_ She was not angry, but confused. Willow grabbed Tara’s hands again and positioned them opposite to the way they were before, so now Willow’s palms were resting on Tara’s.

Tara stared at Willow in obvious confusion, so Willow looked pointedly down at their hands and then nodded at Tara, who waited for a few seconds and then flipped her hands over. Before Tara could touch her, Willow yanked her hands back and Tara slapped the empty air. When Tara seemed taken aback, Willow gave her a wide grin and then pointed at her while mouthing, “HA-HA.” Tara’s mouth pulled back into the half-smile that so few people saw, and she held her hands out palms-down. _She should smile more often._ Willow returned the smile and positioned her hands for the game.

Smack! Pause. Smack! Laughing hysterically—but silently—the two girls continued to play the game. Unfortunately, Fast Hands is a game that two people can only play for so long, fifteen minutes at the most. Even if the players introduce strategies like fakes, tickling palms, and other ways of confusing the palms-down person. Soon enough, it became apparent that Willow had superior reflexes and knew the strategies that Tara didn’t, and so they had to stop playing. Each girl wracked her brain, trying to come up with another game to relieve the boredom.

When Tara was a little girl, sometimes her parents would take her and Donny to visit their relatives. Cousin Beth always tried to teach Tara games like house, dolls, and patty cake. Tara always enjoyed the games, even though mostly the game was just Beth telling her what to do. Her favorite of all the games that cousin Beth taught her was Thumb War. So Tara looked over at Willow and held her hand up with her thumb pointed at the ceiling. Willow looked at her in confusion and gave Tara a thumb’s up back. Tara laughed silently, Willow looked so funny giving her a thumb’s up with a very baffled look on her face.

Timidly, Tara reached out and grabbed Willow’s hand in the classic Thumb War way. Again, both girls felt a jolt, but a smaller one than before. Tara started moving her thumb back and forth and mouthing: “One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war.” She saw a look of dawning comprehension pass over Willow’s face, and they both mouthed the second part of the verse: “Five, six, seven, eight, now it’s time to concentrate.”

The war began in earnest, neither side showed any sign of giving up. They put their whole arms into it, twisting, pushing and laughing. At last, Tara proved to be the victor, pinning Willow’s thumb for three counts. They played a few more rounds, both winning a few, but Tara managed to win a few more than Willow.  
They were each holding the other’s right hand, and all of a sudden Tara reached her left hand across and grabbed Willow’s left hand. Willow looked confused until Tara started the Thumb War count off with both of her hands. After one round of two-handed play they were both silently cracking up, and they played the next few rounds in laughter. They played a few rounds like that and found that it was much more difficult that way. It’s hard to concentrate on two games at once. They’d be warring intensely with their right hands, and they’d completely forget about their left hands. Then one of them would have the brilliant idea of a sneak attack on the left hand.

Once thumb warring got old, they dropped their hands and sat for a moment. Willow pointed at Tara and then patted the ground next to her. Tara was surprised but obligingly moved so that she was sitting next to Willow, both of them leaning against a washing machine. Willow yawned, which of course made Tara yawn. They both realized at the same time that they felt so much closer to each other than they would have thought possible, considering they had only met two days ago and hadn’t ever talked together. Being thrown into such a dire situation had brought them together in a way that everyday interaction would have taken much longer to do. Willow yawned again. She really wanted to put her head on Tara’s shoulder, but she was hesitant for some reason. _I always sleep on Buffy and Xander’s shoulders, what’s so different about this?_ She knew that there was a reason, she just couldn’t quite grasp it yet. But she took a deep breath and leaned over, resting her head on Tara’s shoulder.

Tara gasped silently. She was glad Willow couldn’t see her face. Slowly, she let out a shuddering breath and tried to keep her chest from heaving; though she knew her face was probably bright red. She also knew that just because she wanted it to mean one thing didn’t mean it meant that. Willow probably just saw her as someone else stuck in the same—bad—situation. At best, Willow probably saw her as a potential friend to do magic with. _Her head is on my shoulder. I can’t believe she put her head on my shoulder. Should I put my head on hers? I bet it would be so soft and comfortable. And I’m tired too. But what if it made her uncomfortable? But what if it didn’t? Why would it, we’re just friends. Are we friends yet? If she doesn’t mind my head on her shoulder, we’re friends. If she makes an excuse to move, we’re not._ Silently berating herself for her forwardness, Tara slowly leaned her head down until it rested on Willow’s head.

They sat like that for a while, not sleeping but not fully awake either. They were just waiting for nothing in particular, staring at the door with the soda machine in front of it. Right as they were nodding off, two little gray things flew in through the crack in the door. They looked like wispy chunks of mist—or a mist-like substance—except warmer and less damp. Each girl gasped as one of the mists floated into her mouth.

“What was that?” Willow said at the same time as Tara said, “Oh my God, is that—?” They looked at each other, and then before either of them could think they were in each other’s arms, laughing and talking.

“It’s so good to hear myself speak again!” Willow said ecstatically.

“I n-never thought I would m-miss talking.”

“Lets get out of here!”

Willow and Tara joined hands and concentrated. The soda machine hovered an inch off the ground. The witches grinned at each other. With a loud crash, the machine fell down before it could get anywhere. “Uh oh. That can’t be good.” Willow looked slightly concerned. “Let’s try it again, with everything we’ve got!”

They concentrated more and only managed to get a half-hearted wiggle out of it. Willow raised her eyebrows at Tara. “Looks like we’re both pretty drained.” Tara nodded. “You know, you didn’t have to use up so much energy on my ankle. What if the Gentlemen had got in here? I would never have forgiven myself if you didn’t have enough power to defend yourself against them.”

Tara looked at Willow in surprise. “I-I just w-wanted… I w-wanted to m-make you feel b-b-better.” How could Tara explain to Willow that the thought of Willow in pain made her hurt inside? She couldn’t, so she didn’t try to explain further.

“I guess we should just go to sleep. We can get out of here tomorrow morning after we’ve recharged. I hope you don’t mind spending the night stuck in a room with me.”

“N-no, not at all. I-I hope you d-don’t m-mind having to s-spend a night with m-me.”

“Of course not!” Willow smiled at her, which made Tara’s heart feel like it had just drank a huge cup of coffee. Now it was bouncing around in her rib cage. “Do you want to go to sleep now? Or I guess we could try to think of some more games to play before we sleep. I bet there are some that involve talking.”

“N-no, I think we sh-should just g-go to sleep.” Tara leaned back against the washing machine.

Willow, however, lay down stretched out on the floor. “Can you sleep sitting up?” Willow asked. Tara nodded again. If there was one thing she learned at home, it was to take what she could get, no matter how difficult it was to take or how short-lived. That rule especially applied to sleep.

Willow shifted positions on the floor again and again, prompting Tara to ask: “Are y-you going to be able to s-sleep?”

“I’ll be okay. I just wish I had a pillow.”

Tara gulped and breathed deeply a few times. _I could offer her my lap. Would that be too forward of me? Would a friend do that?_ “You could… you c-could use my lap.”

“Really? That’s so sweet of you.” Willow gave Tara another one of those breath-taking smiles. Tara blushed a bit and smiled from behind her hair.

Willow put her head on Tara’s lap, and it took every ounce of Tara’s willpower not to stroke that silky hair. Tara smiled to herself. She was going to treasure these moments alone with Willow. Tomorrow they would move the machine and go back into the real world; the world where Willow had many friends and Tara had none. But for now, they were safe and they were alone together.


End file.
